Bite Me, Baby
by seattlecsigeek
Summary: Did you ever wonder what Grissom and Sara dream about? Warning: Serious Smut


**Title: Bite Me, Baby  
Rating:** NC-17 (sexually explicit content – please read responsibly)  
**Author(s):** Seattlecisfan and CSIGeekFan  
**Genre:** Smut, smut, smut  
**Summary:** Did you ever wonder what Grissom and Sara dream about?  
**Length:** Ummm… long  
**Author's Note:** We wrote this little fiction as a birthday present for PiperGrissom. We would've bought you Grissom for your birthday, but then we would've had to get really inventive with the disclaimer. We hope you have a wonderful birthday!  
**Disclaimer:** No matter how much we wish we did, we do not own CSI or any of its characters. CBS/Alliance owns CSI and all its characters and would never dream of using them in this way.

**Another Author's Note:** We have no personal experience with vampires, but if this is what it's like, we wouldn't mind.

**Grissom's Point of View**

He drove on auto-pilot. Sara was okay. She was fine. There was a nick so close to her artery where that bastard had cut her with the pottery shard; he'd merely had to inhale to smell the waves of fear pouring from the red cut blaring against her skin. Then it had intermingled with the smell of something else… something earthy, and he knew she was pissed off, maybe frustrated.

The dull drops of rain hitting the window on the other side of the grate Sara had slammed her hands into at the mental hospital had amplified until they'd thundered in his ears, giving him somewhere between a headache and a raging desire to lay his lips over her neck and use his tongue to soothe away the remnants of her wound.

Stopped at a red light just blocks from home, Grissom rubbed a hand to his temple as that same headache threatened to return. _I'm a damn immortal and I still get headaches_, he grunted to himself, trying to contain his temper.

Staring into the rain as night gave way to the pre-dawn change from a pitch black to navy blue sky, he replayed in his mind the entire scene once again. He'd walked away from her and left her vulnerable, giving Adam Trent a shot at brutalizing her. His breath hitched when he thought of the shard at her throat, and for a moment he couldn't seem to exhale. Alone in the dark in his car, he couldn't breathe over the thundering of rain that still fell, pounding like a drum on the hood of his car. All he could think of was…

_Honk. Honk. Honk._

Jolting upright, Grissom took a shaking hand, rubbed it over his face and roughly shifted his car into gear. Moving through the now-green traffic light, everything took on a surreal quality. The edges of his vision darkened, and all he could see was what lay directly in front of him in the dark, wet Vegas night. With hard, rapid breaths, he flipped on the defrost as the warm air from his lungs cast vapor across the windshield and fogged it up. He had to get home before he lost his mind.

For the first time that night, Grissom finally felt a little bit of control as he stepped into his condo and made his way to the bathroom. The long, thankless night had nearly killed Sara; for the first time, safely ensconced in his residence, the CSI supervisor could let out a breath of relief and let himself just exist without hiding his true self away.

He caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he passed on the way to the shower. Sneering at the frumpy clothes he wore around 'his people', Grissom shook his head and let out a long breath. He did a lot to create the illusion of normalcy, and figured he was pretty damn good at it after all these years of practice at being the great Gilbert Grissom, Doctor of Bugs.

Except on nights like this one. Suddenly slamming his hand on the wall, he let out a loud string of uncustomary curses his people would be raising their eyebrows at, as he realized how close he'd come to giving in and taking _everything_ Sara had to offer that night. Watching her in the office every neuron in his brain had turned off. He'd begged for someone to open the door because he simply froze in overwhelming fear. Since then, Grissom found his need for contact with her not just threatening anymore, but wanted. _Needed_. Everything around him seemed to be crumbling, and he needed _her_. Sara was the only one who could give him peace, if only he would reach out and take.

Roughly pulling off his clothes, he dropped them to the tile floor, and stepped under the water. Cold. To control his actions… or inactions… he always had to have it cold. Because even in the frigid ice water shooting from the shower head, by the time he was done fantasizing about her, his fangs would be showing, and his eyes would be turned solid black with lust. The heat emanating from his coiled body would radiate so harsh, that cold water would warm.

He didn't drink human blood anymore. The only time he craved it was when he could feel the pulsing rhythm of her heartbeat, when she stood too close at a crime scene – or brushed against him while examining evidence.

Closing his eyes, he could virtually see the path of her pulse as it coursed through her. He could _smell_ her pulse points giving off the wicked scent of pheromones, even though she was at home in another part of the city. Feeling his erection grow uncontrollably, he leaned his forehead against the tile wall and forced the frigid water to cascade over his neck and back. Some days, like this one, he wanted to show her what he was, because in the end, the only human blood he wanted was Sara's. In his head, her heart beat grew louder, faster, and he _knew_ she was fantasizing about him at that very moment.

For the first time since Sara came to Vegas, Grissom left his supervisor clothes on the floor of the bathroom – putting behind everything logical and intellectual, and letting only his senses guide him. Stalking naked into the bedroom, he slipped into his jeans, a navy blue t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Running on adrenaline and vicious need, he didn't slow down. He hadn't fed in three days and was well overdue, and he was so hungry, his mouth watered wondering what each part of her body would taste like – from her neck to her nipples to the sensitive folds at the apex of her thighs.

With a growl, he grabbed his keys, made his way out the door, and drove. The sun wasn't quite breaking the horizon as he stood on her doorstep in the still-pouring rain and pounded. Steam formed a haze around him as he waited, trying to calm his breathing and his mind. His fangs had retreated, his eyes had lightened from black to cobalt, but he still wanted.

He didn't wait for her to say a word when she finally opened the door, looking groggy. Instead, he pushed past her, slammed the door in his wake and grabbed her around the waist. Without hesitation, he found her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth – past any hesitation she showed. When she moved against him, making erotic whimpering noises, he felt heat wash over him, and rapidly moved back, trying to gain some control. His mind screamed, _don't scare her_, while his body could care less.

Breathing heavily, he stepped several feet away and kept his eyes closed until the heat of his morph changed and he cooled to his human side once again. "I want you," was all he said, but he saw her eyes flare. "I want every ounce of you," he continued, "but you may not want me."

Taking a step closer, he ran a hand down her robe, slowly splaying it open until her naked body lay exposed to him. He could smell her arousal coming from between her legs and… hands. Leaning in, he asked, "Do you really want me, Sara? If not, tell me to stop right now. Once I start, I'll be consuming every inch of you." As if to prove his point, he bent down and slowly raked the full length of his tongue over a tight nipple. Her shuddering moan had him growing hard again.

Wrapping her hand around his neck and into his curls, she waited until he stood his full height once again, and whispered in his ear the most intoxicating words that he'd ever heard. For a moment, he thought he'd misunderstood her when she said, "I want you in me. _All_ of you… including your fangs."

The shock in his eyes made her own gleam with mischief, and she added, "Honey, I know more about you than you know." Turning away from him, she walked toward her bedroom. Over her shoulder, with a husky voice, she asked, "Why do you think I try to stand close to you at work?"

There were no more hurdles. No more secrets he kept. In that moment, years of unfulfilled need and lust rose up in him and he followed, removing his jacket and shirt in the process – leaving them discarded where they fell, and letting the cool draft caress his overly hot skin. Standing in only jeans and tennis shoes, he watched her lay out across the bed, her robe spread fully open. When she raised her hands above her head and spread her legs just a fraction for him, he gave a guttural groan, kicked off his shoes and unhooked the button of his jeans, before roughly pulling them off, freeing his straining erection.

Kneeling between her legs, he let his hands wander, as she did her best to maintain the submissive pose. As his fingers crawled from the heavy thudding pulse points near her ankles, slowly up over the muscular calves, to trace patterns on her inner thighs, he watched her legs spread farther. The smell of her arousal was driving him crazy. More than anything, he wanted to slide his tongue between her long, smooth legs. When she suddenly arched up off the bed, he stared, musing how erotic it would be if she could read his thoughts.

Running his hands up further, he forced himself to take control of the heat that had begun to grow around him – to change him. Once he'd smoothed his palms over to her hips, he pulled her down and got an amazing taste of her. Lapping up the moisture running down between her legs, he felt her gasp shake her entire body. Her legs began to tremble, and small sounds escaped from her throat. When he plunged into her with his tongue, she arched off the bed once more, this time crying his name as she came. She shuddered hard, calling out, "Yes, yes, yes."

Yet he didn't stop the torment. Continually, he sucked, nibbled, and licked at her until she began to thrash again. Moving up over her, he could feel that wet heat of her orgasm where it rubbed against his belly. With her legs splayed wide, he laid across her – with her knees bent, and began to suck on a nipple. Taking it in his mouth, he teased and tortured her, relishing the gasps and moans that rang throughout the room.

Once more, the heat began to overwhelm him. With his eyes closed, he ducked his head, prayed for just one more moment of control, and went back to suckling her breasts. Moving from one to another, he tortured her until she writhed. When she finally begged, he positioned his cock between her legs.

There was no point in fighting his heat anymore. He knew his voice sounded like a hiss when he leaned over her on his elbows, feeling her tight nipples against his chest, and said, "Open your eyes, Sara."

Her brown orbs flickered in fear, which turned to the most basic need and want he'd ever seen in a woman's eyes before. The heat that washed over him nearly consumed him; unable to hold back, he slid into her. Sunk deeply, he waited for her gasping breaths to calm. It took every ounce of self-control he had to prevent himself from losing all control – to keep from pulling back and thrusting hard. He could feel the hard thudding of her heart as blood beat through her body at every pulse point. The thrumming that massaged him in that impossibly tight canal where he'd embedded himself had him growling, "Sara, how long has it been for you?" In his mind, he asked, _Has it been as long for you as it has for me?_

Unable to hold back, he pulled a fraction out and plunged again, simply hearing her say, "Yes," with a moan. For an eternity, he stroked in and out of her, stopping now and then to suckle until she writhed or came for him. More than once he had to hold still inside her as she climaxed and her walls clenched around him.

He'd held off as long as he could, but he also knew what he had to do. Running the edges of his fangs along her collarbone, he drew closer to the base of her neck. He knew the pleasure she'd get from what he was about to do, just as he knew the pleasure he'd be able to give in the future.

"Sara… are you sure?" he gruffly asked. For a moment, uncertainty flickered as she opened her brown eyes. Shutting his own black orbs, he chanted in his mind, _Please say yes. I need you. Please say yes._ Every muscle in him ached for release and utter completion. He didn't realize how wound up he'd become until he opened his eyes, watched as she tilted her head away to expose the soft flesh of her neck and whispered, "Yes, Gil. Yes."

Hearing his slick skin slapping against hers, he began to thrust. Raising them both to the edge of the precipice, he pulled out of her so only the tip of his erection sat against her opening. With one hard thrust, he felt himself explode, and let his fangs sink into her exposed neck at the pulse point. While he pumped his cum into her, her veins gave up the thick red liquid for him to lap at. Sucking on her neck, letting part of his own essence sink into her, he continued to move in and out of her. He knew the moment the core of him hit home, because she arched out of his arms and convulsed around him. It amazed him when he felt a second load of cum spurt into her.

It took a minute for his mind to register that he lay between the legs of the most beautiful woman on the planet. Shifting slightly, Gil felt Sara's groan on his neck, and caught her gaze. Rolling to his side, he brought her with him. He could feel himself softening inside her, but wanted to keep that connection… that physical recognition that he'd just given her everything he knew how to give her, and that they were bound.

Running a hand over her face, she opened her mouth and he watched, fascinated, as she sucked a droplet of her own blood off his finger. Tilting her head up, she found his lips with hers, and he gave into the gentleness of it… the sweetness she possessed below the shell of heat, passion, and brutal fearlessness. Both sated, they began to drift.

She was his. It was as simple as that. One day he would find a way to say the words out loud, he mused, trying to remember an appropriate quote, and absolutely failing to come up with anything even close to the beauty he'd just experienced with her. Deep in thought, snuggled against Sara, he just thought, _I love you, Sara_.

When she murmured, "I love you, too," a lazy, sated smile broke across his face. Tomorrow he would have to ask her how long she'd been able to read minds.

**X X X**

Gil Grissom roused from his dream, feeling a guttural growl creeping in his throat. He could feel his erection from the erotic visions he'd had in his sleep softening. Then he heard her. Turning his head, he saw his wife. She'd thrown off the covers, and lay sprawled on her stomach, naked. He was truly happy in that moment that they both preferred to fall asleep against the feel of each others skin.

When another moan softly escaped her throat, he watched her wriggle against the top sheet that had bunched up between her thighs. Getting completely turned on, he felt his cock stiffen at the sight. Reaching out, he ran his fingers down the center of her back, across her ass, and between her legs.

The pool of moisture he found there made him throb, and he sucked in a hard breath. When he slid a finger into her, she moaned, and he watched her spread her legs for him, as she clutched her pillow in her sleep. Adding a second finger, she gasped softly and pushed against the wanted intrusion. It was all the signal he needed.

Shifting himself so he lay between her legs, Grissom slid a hand under her belly, lifted her a little off the bed, and eased the head of his cock into her. When she let out a whimper and raised herself high on her knees, he stroked her back, and watched her twist her head to the side. He could see her eyes as he bent over her. When they opened, hazy from sleep, he watched the dull brown go sharp on a gasp, as he buried himself deep in a single thrust.

"Ooooooohhhh," escaped her lips and he bent his head to nip and lick at her shoulder blade. When he retreated from her body, teasing her folds with the tip of his erection, she whimpered once again, and he couldn't help the giddy grin on his face.

Achingly slow, he only fed her an inch at a time, until her eyes had totally cleared and they'd turned to that dark chocolate color. When she panted, "Harder. Please, baby. I want it harder," he complied by withdrawing and driving into her, until those recently cleared eyes glazed.

With a husky voice, he withdrew once again, teasing her, and asked, "Is that how you want it, Sara? Like this?" Surging into her once again, she began chanting, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. Raising her hips higher, with her face, hands and arms pressed into her pillow, she taunted him with better access.

"Is this how _you_ like it, baby?" she asked in a throaty tone. His smirk came out as a groan when she sank bank onto him.

"I just like being in you," he answered reasonably between heavy breaths on her back. Gripping her hips, he began to thrust his entire thick length in and out of her, until her hands clenched the pillow. The tangy scent of arousal – from between her legs, from their combined sweat – began to permeate the room. Laying one hand on the wall in front of him for balance, he kept his hips moving in rhythm with her moans, and laid his chest across her back. He used his other hand to reach around and stroke her clit, while he murmured, "You're so good. Come for me, Sara."

When she cried out his name, Grissom drove into her a couple more times, feeling the head of his cock pulse hard and explode, sticky strands of cum shooting into her with each additional thrust. Whispering her name over and over, he finally laid his head between her shoulder blades, until his breath calmed and he felt like he could actually move without tipping over. There were definite high points to having Sara in his bed, he mused, grinning a little.

Eventually, he lifted his head, and kissed where he'd just laid his cheek. His skin began to cool, and part of him languidly began to wonder if maybe he was crushing her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rolled to his side, taking her with him… and stayed inside her.

As he felt her breathing fall into a deep rhythm, he lazily said, "Sara, I'll never argue with you again when you want to watch vampire movies on our anniversary." He wasn't quite asleep when she murmured, "That's good. Next year we'll watch the sequel."

**Sara's Point of View**

When Sara's supervisor had asked if she'd wanted to attend the Forensic Academy's winter conference in Berkeley she'd jumped at the chance. Not only did she love learning - in truth, she could use a break from the sometimes overwhelming gruesomeness of her job.

She'd scanned the conference schedule and seen that a class about using insect activity on corpses as a forensics tool to determine timelines was on the first day and smiled. In the three years she had worked for the SFPD forensics lab she'd heard plenty of stories about Gil Grissom. The man was said to be some sort of crime scene guru that specialized in bugs. He was also said to be sexy as hell by certain sectors of the law enforcement community. She was looking forward to learning more about using bugs to determine time of death as well as seeing the infamous entomologist.

The thin winter sun did nothing to warm Sara that morning and she shivered as she walked across the campus towards International Hall. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, she wished she'd worn something more substantial than a long cardigan. Taking a little extra care in picking out what clothes to wear today, she had chosen her tightest jeans, a fairly low-cut top, and clogs in place of her usual boots. If she had the chance to meet Dr. Grissom, she wanted to make a favorable impression.

Walking into the auditorium she saw the scientist in question up on stage. Sara let her investigator's training take over as she walked towards the front row. Gil Grissom was in his early forties, nearly six feet tall, one hundred eighty pounds, with curly brown hair. He was wearing nicely fitting chinos and a dark blue polo shirt that showed off his well muscled arms. Sara especially took note of his forearms as he set up for his lecture, the tendons dancing under tanned skin.

When he glanced up Sara saw that he had piercing blue eyes. She was mesmerized as he stopped what he was doing and stared; his eyes seemed to bore into hers.

She could feel her pulse start to race as his eyes turned darker, almost lustful. Forcing her own eyes away, she was embarrassed by the sudden sexual longing she felt. Almost against her will she found herself sitting in the middle of the front row.

The hall quickly filled and the entomologist introduced himself, "Good morning, I'm Dr. Gil Grissom. It's good of you all to be here today. We'll be starting with a short slide show." While the houselights dimmed, Sara felt his eyes on her again and shifted in her seat. It felt as if the temperature of the blood in her veins was rising a degree or two every time he looked at her.

Sitting through the lecture, Sara tried to keep her eyes on her notes and her concentration on the subject at hand. If she didn't look at Grissom she found she could keep her mind from wandering. But every time she did look at him she found herself wondering what his kisses were like. What his tongue would feel like on the flesh of her neck. What his teeth would feel like sliding against her skin.

At the end of the lecture, when he stepped down from the stage she found herself drawn to his side, asking question after question - until they were the only ones left in the auditorium.

"Dr. Grissom, I know we just met, but would you like to have dinner with me?" Sara could feel the heat of a blush creeping up her neck and she ducked her head to hide it.

Grissom smiled and said, "I'd love to have dinner with you. What time is your last class, Miss…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Sidle. Sara Sidle," she said as she stuck out her hand to shake his. "And I'm not a student. I'm here for the forensics conference. I'm a CSI with the San Francisco PD." She felt Grissom's hand tighten on hers and she grinned at him. "I'll meet you in front of the UC Art Museum at six. Is that okay?"

Grissom turned Sara's hand palm up. He seemed to study her wrist for a moment before releasing it. "That would be perfect. Until six."

Sara thought she saw the barest hint of a wink before he turned and stepped back up onto the stage.

**XXX**

After a quick lunch break with a colleague and three more lectures, Sara finally reached the end of her day. Every time she had a moment to pause she found herself thinking of the handsome entomologist. She had never felt so inexplicably drawn to a man before and found it more than a little disconcerting.

As six o'clock neared she had to force herself not to rush across campus to meet him. She laughed when she realized her hands were trembling. Rounding the corner she saw Grissom standing in front of the museum. He'd changed his clothes, and was now wearing a black leather duster over a pair of black jeans and a black silk shirt. Sara could see his eyes glittering in the fading light. As she stopped before him he took her hand and she felt a sexual thrill jolt from her fingers to her core.

Her mouth dry, eyes locked with his, she asked, "Should we take my car?"

"Of course. Where are you parked?" Grissom asked in a low, gravelly voice that sent a shiver up Sara's spine.

"Um, just a couple of blocks away." Sara broke eye contact with regret, turned and started down the street. She could feel Grissom's hand hovering over the small of her back and subconsciously slowed her usually fast, long-legged pace. "Do you like Chinese? I know a great little place just around the corner from my apartment."

With a tickle of arousal, Sara could feel his warm breath against her ear as he replied, "That would be lovely, my dear."

**XXX**

The next two hours were a blur. Sara parked in front of her apartment and they walked the short distance to the restaurant. She was sure they must have talked during dinner, but she had no idea about what. All she knew was that she felt like she was falling under some kind of spell.

Standing in front of her apartment after dinner she asked, "Would you like to come up?"

Grissom stepped closer, raised a hand to caress her cheek, and stared into her eyes. When Sara tilted her face upwards, his mouth descended. His lips were soft and warm as they gently kissed hers, and she tilted her head, deepening the kiss.

Breaking away, Grissom stepped back and stared into her eyes. He had a wicked grin on his face when he replied, "I'd love to come."

On trembling legs, Sara led the way up the stairs and down a hall to her apartment. She unlocked the door and walked inside. When she reached for the light switch Grissom grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

He started to kiss her again, but more urgently this time. Sara parted her lips to moan and his tongue slipped into her mouth, sending a quicksilver jolt of desire to low in her belly. She stroked his tongue with her own and heard a low rumble from Grissom's throat. She felt the hard wooden door against her back as he pushed her up against it, sucking her tongue into his mouth.

Sliding her hands up Grissom's chest, she pushed the leather coat off his shoulders. She then thrust her fingers into his hair and pulled him even closer, kissing him deeply. Stepping forward, he pressing into her. Sara could feel the hardness of his erection against her hip. Sliding her hands down his back to his ass, she pulled him hard against her.

Breaking the kiss, Grissom ground the ridge of his erection against her and she felt the heat between her legs begin to pulse. Sara found her eyes drawn to his. They were almost black now and she felt as if she were falling into their depths.

Sliding her hands back up to his chest, she pushed him away slightly so she could unbutton his shirt, staring all the while into his dark eyes. Slipping her hands under the black silk, against the warm skin of his chest, she felt herself grow damp with desire.

Grissom's hands came up to her breasts and began to knead them through the fabric of her shirt, pinching the taught nipples until she cried out from the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. Never breaking eye contact he slid his hands down to unbutton her jeans and lower the zipper. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, he lifted it over her head, dropping it to the floor. Sara felt him unclasp her bra, releasing the straps from her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms.

Dropping his head, Grissom began to kiss her again, his mouth a searing heat on her lips. Sara felt his hands slide around her back and inside her jeans. When he grabbed her ass and lifted her slightly she instantly wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling his hardness tight against her. He thrust himself against her, pounding her against the door until she was moaning loudly.

When he pushed her away, Sara dropped her legs in confusion. Before her head could clear he spun her around so that she was facing the door and slid her jeans and panties down off of her hips. She kicked the clothing aside and heard the sound of a zipper and the rustle of pants being shucked off behind her. Then she felt the heat of Grissom's chest against her back, the throbbing length of his cock against her ass, and she shivered, shifting her hips and writhing against his heat.

His hands were on her hips and his mouth on her shoulder, nibbling towards her neck when she felt the blunt head of his cock nudge between her thighs. Sara braced her hands against the door and pushed back as he thrust forward, filling her.

Slowly he pulled out until only the tip was inside her, he then thrust back in deeply. And again and again, faster and harder. So deep Sara thought she could take no more.

All the while his mouth was working on her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping.

When he pulled almost all the way out and stopped, Sara looked back over her shoulder. Grissom stood slicked with sweat, eyes entirely black. And he had white fangs protruding down over his full lips. All at once Sara understood the magnetic attraction he seemed to have over her.

Pulse racing, she pushing herself away from the door and stepping back against him, tilting her head to expose her neck. Grissom plunged home, pumping his hips several times before lowering his head and piercing the skin of her throat. Sara felt her world explode as wave after wave of orgasm crashed over her. Closing her eyes, white light exploded in her head. She arched her head back as her arms and legs went taught, straining for completion.

She was still moaning when she awoke naked, on her stomach, sheets bunched between her thighs. She'd never had an erotic dream so intense, so real. When she felt Grissom rubbing the head of his erection gently against her from behind, she smiled, comprehension dawning. She was at home, in bed with her husband and she'd been dreaming. Feeling his hand slip under her belly and pull her towards him, Sara felt desire race through her veins.

As she raised up on her knees, Sara felt Grissom's hand on her lower back, caressing firmly. Turning her head she looked into his eyes, they were deep blue and hooded with desire.

Sara gasped as he drove his cock in to the hilt, he was a big man and the first few deep thrusts always bordered on pain. That sweet delicious pain she sometimes ached for.

"Oooohhh…." Sara moaned as he withdrew, only the tip of his erection teasing her opening. He nipped and licked at the skin across her back, making her whimper before he started to inch his length back into her with agonizing slowness.

Finally, unable to stand her wanton need, she begged, "Harder. Please, baby. I want it harder."

He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back. Then he slid back until Sara could feel the head of his cock tugging at the lips of her pussy.

"Is this how you want it, Sara?" He thrust his full length into her hard again, "Like this?"

"Yes…yes…yes…" She repeated with each deep stroke. Bracing herself against her pillow with forearms and head, Sara rhythmically rocked back to meet each plunge of his thick, hard cock.

"Is this how _you_ like it , baby?" Sara asked, voice rough-edged with lust and straining with exertion. When he groaned in reply she felt the tension ratcheting up inside her.

She felt his palms slide across the small of her back to grasp her hips as he pumped into her harder, faster; building up the delicious friction.

"I just like…being _in _you," he grunted between ragged breaths. Sara grasped the pillow tightly and clenched her jaw, listening to the slap of sweat slicked skin as their bodies came together.

Grissom braced himself, placing a palm against the wall above her head as his thrusts became shorter and more frantic. He laid his chest against her back and reached down with his free hand to rub her clit. The rough, calloused tip of his middle finger pushing her closer to the edge. He circled the sensitive nub faster, harder.

When his hot breath whispered against her ear, "You're so good. Come for me, Sara," she started to climax.

Gasping out his name, Sara felt her orgasm crash over her in long, rolling waves. The spasms radiated out from her core.

She could feel Grissom's thrusts become shallow as he lost his rhythm and came, spurting hot cum inside her, whispering her name over and over.

He rested his head against her back as they waited for their breathing to return to normal. Sara felt him kiss her back before he wrapped his arms around her and tipped them both onto their sides, still joined intimately.

She smiled when she barely heard him whispering, "Sara, I'll never argue with you again when you want to watch vampire movies on our anniversary."

As she floated away on the gray edge of sleep, she murmured, "That's good. Next year we'll watch the sequel."


End file.
